The Bluefic
by Almanorek
Summary: A genetically stagnant species calls on the Doctor and Amy to save them. By having a baby. Some NSFW.


The TARDIS touched down, and was quickly exited by Amy, Rory, and the Doctor, quick to explore the new world. A barren wasteland stretched in front of them in every direction, save for one, where a massive circular wall stood, a steel door barring entrance. The three approached the door, curious. A slot at eye-level opened up, revealing an array of electronic eyes, which immediately whirred to life and began scanning them up and down. Seconds later, the slot closed.

Rory raised an eyebrow. "What exactly was that, then?"

Before the Doctor could respond, the sound of grinding gears accompanied the doors sliding open a couple inches. Machinery started working out of sight, and the doors continued to part, revealing an inner chamber, roughly cubic in shape, a nondescript dark gray tile coating the floor, walls, and ceiling. They wandered inside, the doors closing behing them, causing the room to go dark.

"Typical Time Lord. Lead us into a sealed room with no hope of exit, without even making sure the locals are friendly."

The Doctor procured his sonic screwdriver. He activated it, illuminating the immediate area with a soft green glow. It turned off seconds later. "I think we're safe. No immediate threats. Now we just wait, I suppose."

A light turned on above them. One of the tiles shone brightly, more than enough to mimic the brightness of the outdoors. Another tile opened up next to it, revealing a grate. White mist poured through it, filling the room. Amy and Rory panicked, reaching for clotch to clench over their faces, while the Doctor tapped his foot impatiently and looked at his watch.

A minute later, the flow of gas reversed, returning the room to its previous state. Eleven nodded. "Standard decontamination process. Nothing to worry about." Tiles on the wall opposite the main door slid backwards and outwards, a man, or, at least, humanoid person walked through. He stood a tad shorter than the average human, with pale blue skin, and a ridge running from his forehead, peaking at the top of his skull (Poking out through his off-white, shaggy hair), and merging into his spine. He smiled and bowed to them. "I apologize for the lack of communication. There was a time when such procedures weren't necessary, but, that has long since passed."

"Oh, wonderful. We get to meet the blueberry people of the Crab Nebula."

The Doctor walked towards their greeter. "Don't be silly, Rory. The Crab Nebula won't evolve blueberries for another three billion years, let alone blueberry people." He held out his hand. "Hi there. I'm the Doctor."

The blue man shook it, causing Amy to furrow her brow. "What, you have hand shaking here? And it doesn't mean 'please kill me' or 'I'm very tasty', or anything like that?"

The blue man shook his head. "When you first approached the door, you were scanned, and our computers used your genetic information to identify your place of origin, and, by extension, your culture and customs. I am merely being polite." He turned back to the gap in the tiles. "Come, you must be weary." His gaze lingered on the Doctor for a moment before he passed through.

They followed him out and were immediately greeted by a strange landscape. The wall, as it turns out, had a ceiling, just a few dozen meters high. They were sealed in a cylindrical city, which was bathed in a gentle, blue, ambient light. Rectangular, windowless buildings reached from ground to roof, seamlessly merging at the top, acting as pillars. A few people, equally blue (Though there were variations in shade, as well as some teal-tinted individuals) walked about, exiting one building and entering the next. It was all very casual, but extremely uniform. The architecture, as well as the clothes that the people wore (A gray, tight, one-piece jumpsuit) were entirely identical.

The man explained, "Times have not been so great for us. We have been forced to dedicate ourselves to science, and, as a result, our other industries have suffered. Our textiles, agriculture, structures, and pretty much everything else are run by the government, whereas research, development, and application of various scientific fields are highly competitive markets. I myself run a division at BioCare, who, as my employer, will be sponsoring your room and board. This way, please."

He led them through a few narrow streets, into a featureless building whose only unique feature was a small plaque on the door that read "BioCare - 0371694q". The doors were the regular 'push-to-open' kind, though they were immediately followed by another pair of doors with no handles. Rather, they were activated by a button, which was pressed, causing the doors to open shortly after. Inside was a large room, similar to the one they had entered at first, though it was well-lit. They entered, and the doors closed behind them. The blue man took a few steps to the right, bringing himself in front of a large panel of similar, labeled buttons. He pressed one in the middle and the room shuddered with movement.

Rory nearly stumbled. "But this thing is massive! The whole building just houses an elevator? Where are all the rooms?"

The blue man responded, "Aboveground acts as a hub, connecting various companies and residential districts. The actual bulk of the building is underground. It's a bit compartmentalized, but, it's all we could do on such short notice." The elevator stopped with a ding, and the doors slid open. "This way, please."

They followed him down hallways, whose layouts he seemed to know by heart, until they came to a series of tightly packed rooms marked "BioCare-Sponsored Dormitories" On the wall, a series of digital displays listed names, next to which was a small display and keyboard. "If you don't mind me asking, what are your names? I need them to register you into the system." They answered one by one, and immediately after, three empty spaces became 'Amy', 'Rory', and, after a brief pause, 'The Doctor'.

Displays above the corresponding rooms changed to match, the doors of which opened silently. Amy walked to her room, as did Rory and the Doctor. Inside was a modest arrangement of furniture. A bed, a desk and chair, a small bureau, and curtains that hung in front of a 'window' that displayed a simulated scene. Amy saw the ocean. Rory, a calm meadow. The Doctor saw a swirling spiral galaxy. The blue man smiled. "These are your living quarters. I'm afraid this will be the last I see you, but, hopefully you'll enjoy your stay. Someone else will be here shortly to explain meals and the utilities. Goodbye. I'm very glad I had the opportunity to welcome you here."

The three relaxed as their needs were quickly taken care of. A woman appeared, similar to the main in most ways, though her head possessed three ridges rather than just one, and brought them brief but useful manuals regarding the dormitory. Amy skimmed through hers, looking for the words 'food' and 'bathroom', which Rory meticulously examined each and every page. The Doctor, meanwhile, relocated his immediately to the garbage bin. ("I don't do 'manuals'.")

An hour later, they were directed down the main hallway to a large cafeteria. A few small groups of people were huddled at various tables. The food was served buffet-style, so they parted ways for a couple of minutes, reconvening at a booth on the side of the room, next to a simulated view of a garden. After they finished their meals, they returned to their bedrooms and, though Rory wasn't entirely happy with the fact that he couldn't share a room with Amy, allowed sleep to take them.

The next morning, Amy and Rory stood impatiently outside of the Doctor's room. They knocked on his door, softly at first, then more frequently and forcefully. Amy threw her hands up in the air. "Some Time Lord he is! Can't even wake up on time." They noticed a man passing by. Amy tried to get his attention. "Excuse me, do you know who could open our friend's room? He's a bit of a heavy sleeper."

The man walked over to the console. "Not a worry. All staff members have dormitory access. For security purposes." He tapped away on the keyboard for a moment before the door slid open, revealing an empty room that looked like it hadn't been touched in a long time. "Oh dear. You must have the wrong room. And, how odd, the nameplate hasn't been wiped yet." A few more keystrokes and 'The Doctor' returned to a blank display. "All better. Good luck finding your friend!" He hurried off.

Amy slunk against the wall. "Okay, clearly something is wrong. And worse, either that guy is an idiot, or he's in on it."

Rory sat next to her. "So what do we do?"

"Get some answers." She pulled herself up and started down the hallway, Rory following after her. At the intersection there was a short directory that listed the nearby rooms and facilities. She looked for something along the lines of 'faculty', eventually finding 'administration' and heading towards the indictated direction. The hallway ended abruptly, sealed off with a thick, steel door, similar to the one that had greeted them at the city'e entrance. Amy hammered on it. "Oy! Let us in!"

After a long pause, the door silently slid open. Two men and a woman, all in white lab coats, stood just behind it. The man on the left spoke. "Hello. I trust everything is in order?"

Amy stepped up to him, trying to use her increased height as a form of intimidation. "No. Everything is not in order. Where's my friend? The Doctor? If he was going to go somewhere, he'd either take us with her or leave a note. Or something like that. So you tell me where he is right now, or so help me-"

Rory cut her off with a hand on her shoulder. "What she means to say is, we'd really appreciate it if you could help us find the Doctor."

The man sighed, and turned to his companions. "We might as well. What's the harm?" He faced Amy once more. "Alright, follow me."

Confused, they let him lead them through the doorway into a larger room, the walls of which sported computer consoles, and the floors of which supported tables that held up racks of test tubes containing vials of various-colored liquids. They continued, reaching the other side of the room, the lighting growing dimmer and dimmer, taking on a bluish hue, and entering a smaller hallway. They took a left, and a right, arriving at a door labeled. "Project: Geneforge 58-T"

Inside, the Doctor was held upright by what looked like a comfortable operating table. His arms and legs were strapped down, but the most odd detail was that he was entirely nude, and looked to be in a state of distress. Amy ran forward to him but stopped suddenly, realizing he was blocked off from them by a glass box. "Don't worry, Doctor, we're going to get you out of there!" He didn't react.

She whirled around to their escort, who sighed once again and rubbed his temples. "He's in a Fullicane Case. No light or sound can get in, and it's indestructible, save for the force of a nuclear detonation. It may sound a tad overboard, but, he's a Time Lord, and we're fully aware of what Time Lords, and their allies, are capable of."

Amy crossed her arms. "You put him in there. I know you can get him out. Do it."

"You would condemn our species? We aren't even going to harm him! A day of your time is all we require, to save millions of lives!"

"Condemn your species? What?"

"We are genetically stagnant. Our population, while large, is largely related to one another. In order to avoid adverse effects, we must undergo expensive gene therapy every few years, and the process becomes more elaborate with each generation. The solution is to inject new genetic code into our society, and Time Lord DNA has the additional benefit of being genetically adaptive, meaning it easily mixes with the DNA of more helixical species, like ours."

Amy paused to gather her thoughts, making sure to keep the Doctor out of her line of sight. "So, what exactly are you doing to him, then?"

The blue man blushed, his cheeks turning a vibrant purple. "I, erm, don't feel entirely comfortable explaining it. My colleague, on the other hand, is an expert in the matter."

He walked over to a woman working on one of the consoles. A brief, inaudible conversation between the two led to him taking her place. She walked over to Amy. "Hi there. Well, your friend, you see, he's been kept on the brink of orgasm by a combination of external stimulation and chemical aphrodisiac. When a suitable mother has been found, the Fullicane Case will open slightly around his penis, and he'll be moved forward, causing him to be inserted into the woman's vagina, at which point he should climax immediately."

Rory opened his mouth, but couldn't bring himself to say anything. Amy filled in the silence. "So why all of this? Why not just ask him to help 'save a species'?"

"We've gotten to the point that it's simply quicker for us to go ahead without receiving consent. Admittedly, it's dubiously unethical, but we find that the benefit of saving millions of potential lives outweighs the discomfort of a couple individuals."

"I. Well." Amy found herself unable to reply. The woman made a good argument, at least from a utilitarian point of view, and the Doctor had been through much worse. "Okay, well, how much more does he have to go through before you can let him go?"

The woman managed a half-smile. "Well, a proper mother, that would be you, simply needs to sign a consent form and return to us in about two months, Earth-time."

Her eyes widened. "Excuse me? Who said anything about me being the 'proper mother'? There are loads of people around here!"

"Yes, but as we've explained, our people are genetically stagnant. We're no longer compatible with cross-breeding of this type. The only remaining solution is to use a more suitable host, human is perfect, until the embryo has developed enough to allow for a proper transplant, at which point we will relieve you of the fetus. Gene therapy is much more effective and permanent when applied early on, and the resulting life form will be genetically compatible with our species. Introducing it to our gene pool will allow us to begin reversing the damaging effects of the last few dozen generations."

Rory took a step forward. "Does it have to be Amy? Can't it be any human female?"

Amy scoffed. "Of course, Rory. We're going to go up to some girl on the street and say, 'Hey there, how'd you like to save an alien species with your womb?' Brilliant idea."

"Well I'd rather you not carry the Doctor's baby."

"It would be out of me before my stomach even started to expand." She turned her head back to the woman. "That is, of course, if I even agree to this. How do we know you guys aren't evil aliens and this is your one chance to rule the galaxy?"

The woman sighed. "Our people, isolated as we are, are responsible for the Pan-Galactic Biomedical and Alternative Energy Federation. We've elevated thousands of plants from class 0 protobiomes to class XII local superpowers. We've acted aggressively towards no one, and have only helped those that we've come across. Is that good enough for you?"

Amy blinked a few times, absorbing her words. "Okay. Well then. Doesn't exactly sound very malicious." She looked at Rory. "I think we should do it. Barely any effort on our part, and we can save a whole civilization. And think of the good they'll do for everyone else." She looked at him, pleadingly. After a few seconds, he sighed and nodded. "You are just the best husband." She returned to the blue woman. "Alright. You said something about a consent form. Point me to it."

The woman led her out of the containment room, halfway down the hallway they had just exited, into a small office, Rory following all the while, suppressing his annoyance at the situation. The woman pulled open a file cabinet and searched through it until she found what she was looking for. She returned to the desk with a black sheet of plastic-like material, covered in white print. She pulled from her lab coat a small utensil that looked similar to a pen and handed it off to Amy, who began scanning the sheet, found a dozen words she didn't understand in the first sentance alone, and opted instead to simply sign. She found the appropriate location and brought the tip of the writing device to it. She scrawled her name, noting that the 'pen' was frictionless against the page, and that the resulting signature was identical in coloration to the rest of the document.

The woman took the paper back and filed it away. "Wonderful. Now, if you'll just return with me to the containment room, we can get this all taken care of." They followed her back, finding the Doctor in the same state as before. Amy, drawing closer to the box, noticed that he wasn't exactly entirely nude. A series of three rings were wrapped around his exposed member, connected to struts that led behind the table he was attached to. Additionally, his testicles had a similar harness. Occasionally, one of the rings would vibrate, causing the Doctor to grit his teeth, but the motion would stop almost immediately, leaving him with a frustrated look on his face.

Amy put her hands on her hips. "So, how do we do this? I mean, don't I also have to get all worked up to get preggers?"

"Normally, yes, but we've prepared an aphrodisiac tonic that guarantees that everything goes perfectly." She left them for a minute, coming back with a small plastic cup filled with a vaguely orange mixture.

Amy took it, eyeing it for just a moment before downing it in a single gulp. A pleasant warmth ran through her for a second, before it turned into a desperate need. She felt the sensation of moisture between her legs, and suddenly the Doctor's stiff erection became the most wonderful thing in the world to her. She pressed herself up against the cage, eager for him.

The woman hustled over to one of the consoles and began tapping away at the keyboard. The Fullicane Cage encasing the Doctor began tilting backwards. Amy clawed at it for a moment before realizing that, now that it had become horizontal, she was capable of pulling herself on top of it, which she wasted no time doing. She tore off her pants, tossing them at Rory, who rolled his eyes and took another sigh, and lined herself up with the Doctor's cock, sitting directly above it. Another few keystrokes and he began moving upwards towards her. A small hole opened up beneath Amy, and the member moved through. Amy had become so wet from the arousing drink that he practically glided inside of her. Once she had bottomed out to the best of her ability, the Doctor came immediately. She felt him twitch inside of her for a second before firing an inhuman amount of cum into her. The very sensation triggered a climax of her own. She clenched down on him, and for nearly a minute the two were in simultaneous throes of ecstasy, ending with both parties slumping, extremely satisfied.

A month later, on the TARDIS, Amy sat in the kitchen, cradling her flat stomach as she ate a bowl of Gallifr-O's. Rory sat across from her, nibbling on some toast. He swallowed and took a sip of orange juice before speaking. "You know, you're pregnant, but you're not, you know, bigger. I don't see why you keep holding your belly."

"Because," She spoke with food still in her mouth, causing a dribble of milk to run down her chin. She wiped it up and resumed, "Last time I had a baby, I didn't even know it until I had to push her out. Literally the worst part. Now, I only get to hold onto he she it for another month. I'm making the most of my time."

Rory shrugged and returned to his breakfast.

A couple days after that, the Doctor found Amy sitting in her bed, alone. He popped his head in, waving to her. "How's mummy and baby doing?"

She smiled. "Perfectly fine. The usual."

He walked into the room, pulling himself onto the bed next to her. "I've been told, if it's a boy, he'll look like his dad, but he'll have his mother's eyes. Of course, if the mother is Scottish, she may just go ahead and claim everything about him."

Amy chuckled. "Chances are the baby is going to be a blue-skinned alien. Don't know if I'll have much of a claim on it."

He put a hand on her stomach. "No matter what it looks like, it'll still be your child."

"Ahem." Rory stood in the doorway, carrying a glass of water. He walked in, handing it to Amy.

The Doctor waved to him, just as he had her. "Hi there, Rory. Amy looked a bit lonely. Just wanted to pop in."

Rory nodded pulling himself onto the bed and under the covers next to his wife. "Right. Well, I'm here now. She's fine."

"Okay. I just wanted to make sure everything was alri-"

"Yeah. It is."

The Doctor, feeling a little unwanted, stood up, and with a bit of awkard hesitation, made his way out of the room.

A week before they were to return to the blue people, Amy and Rory found themselves in something of a tiff. Amy ran her hands through her hair, frustrated. "I don't understand why you're so upset!"

Rory paced the room, hands on his hips. "I don't care if biologically the Doctor is the father. I'm your husband. Even if this is going to be an alien baby, it's going to be mine as much as yours."

"He was just making me breakfast in bed! It was nice!"

"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of you!"

The TARDIS landed in the very room that the Doctor had been contained inside of. The three exited, the Doctor with a spring in his step, Amy and Rory together, holding hands. The room was deserted, but a quick sonic screwdriver applied to a wall console caused four of the blue people, two armed, to run in. The Doctor smiled at them. "No need for guns, boys. We're just here for a baby transplant."

Once they had gotten the staff up to speed, and assured them that while they left the city forty days ago, they had in fact been gone for almost exactly two months, the three were led back to the main elevator, descended a couple of floors, and entered a new hallway, identical in almost every way, as was the norm, to the last. They followed their escorts until they came to what looked like a very high-tech operating room.

Rory and the Doctor were asked to wait outside. They did, for no less than two hours, after which they were called back inside. Amy, who was now wearing a monochrome hospital gown, smiled at them, coming out of an anesthetic-induced daze. Across from her, on an identical table, laid yet another blue-skinned woman. She hadn't yet awoken. Behind them, the doors swung open, and a team of men walked in, grabbing the woman's bed (Which turned out to be mobile.) and wheeled her out. Rory's mouth hung slightly agape.

The remaining man, apparently the surgeon/baby transplanter, answered the unasked question. "That woman now carries the fetus. She, and it, will need to undergo a series of gene therapies." He turned to Amy. "You did a great job. Every test I ran said the fetus is very healthy. And, while I was checking..." He smiled. "It's a boy. Congratulations."

After Amy had gotten a hearty lunch and changed back into her clothes, the three time travelers navigated their way to the gene therapy lab, where the woman from before, still sedated, was hooked up to various machines and consoles of all sorts, protected by a pane of glass that stretched the length of the room, separating the sterile lab from the visitor's viewing chamber. Rory managed a smile. "There goes my baby. To be honest, I really think we've done all we can here. That child is the hope of their species. They're going to take perfect care of it."

Amy nodded in agreement. "It may be my egg, but, it's their child. We did a good job, but, there's a whole universe to explore out there." She headed for the doorway, Rory following after her. "Oy, Doctor, you coming?"

He waved her off. "Yes yes, Ponds, in a minute." One they had closed the door, he returned to the glass, pressing his hand gingerly against it. "I'm not a big fan of goodbyes, but..." He turned and headed to the same door, only turning back just as he was about to step through it. "Goodbye, son."


End file.
